Being a
History of the Reign of Alfrega, called the Mad, and of Those who Opposed Her, as Recorded
by Midistaf the Learned, of Feirgard.
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The Reign of Alfrega |
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A weighty, leather-bound history of some vintage. The front plate has
"From Harlune's Library" scrawled across the bottom. |
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Value |
800 |
| Burden |
6400 |
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Pages |
49 of 49 pages full. |
King Theolaud, son of Viamont Royal Governor Alfric, ruled
Aluvia for thirty years. Some say that his death in 854 was an assassination, but many say
he died in a private duel with some noble of Viamont, possibly even the King. One palace
rumor insisted that Theolaud snatched Aluvia for himself, out from under the overlordship
of Viamont, simply to defend himself against King Elous VIII of Viamont, who strongly
opposed Theolaud's affair with a certain young Princess.
The two Kings then presumably came to a duel, according to
this fanciful tale. We must now show the fallacy of this belief. Firstly, the Princess was
not of marriageable age, even by Milantos standards; secondly, who has heard of a King who
would deign to submit himself to a duel?
It is a long-established aphorism that the Viamontians
appreciate, more than any other race on Ispar, the romance of tragedy. In the case of
Theolaud, this is certainly true; the supposed love between the young princess and the old
king, and the myth of the "Kings' Duel," have been the basis for much poetry and
theater.
Upon Theolaud's death, his daughter Alfrega came to the
throne. The ascension of a queen was hardly a common occurrence among the Viamontian
aristocracy, but not revolutionary. While she later took a husband and bore heirs, she
remained in sole control of Aluvia. Waggish tongues say that Alfrega's spouse, a royal son
of Milantos named Kirne, feared her as much as the peasantry did. Others say his Milantane
inclinations dovetailed perfectly with the queen's nature.
Theolaud had been deeply devoted to his daughter - too much
so, some whispered - and she never fully recovered from the loss. Queen Alfrega blamed her
father's death on the Aluvian peasantry; one of the resentful commoners, the native
Aluvians, had surely slipped into the palace and murdered him.
The publication of Sanxeth of Celdon's voluminous work of
philosophy, The Common-Wealth, also increased her suspicions. This hefty tome repudiated
the notion of monarchy, and called for the peasantry to unite in communities run by group
consensus. Sanxeth's anarchic principles were vigorously opposed in all civilized lands.
Thus it was that Alfrega became a paranoid ruler who saw
intrigue behind every door. Each week, suspected spies were publicly put to death as a
warning to all who would oppose her. More importantly, she spent a great deal of time
trying to wipe out the remnants of the Orts.
The Orts were a group of native Aluvian rebels who had been
living underground - figuratively and often literally - for some years, who wished to free
Aluvia of all Viamontian influence. (They culled their name from the Old Roulean
"oraete," which referred to the leftovers of a traditional legionary victory
feast ,commonly distributed to the poor.) Alas for the Orts, those of Viamont descent who
reigned in Aluvia were all that kept old Viamont herself from sweeping in to reclaim
"her" land.
The valorous Orts were the children and grandchildren of the
original defending army of Aluvia, which had assembled on the Plain of Ayrifal that
fateful 4th of Solclaim and was shattered by massed ranks of storm wands. Descended from
nearly all of the factious Aluvian clans, the Orts were united by little but a fierce
hatred of their conquerors. They enjoyed the sympathies of the peasantry, many of the
merchants, and some mages.
The Orts had been a thorn in the side of the Viamontian
aristocracy since Aluvia fell, holding firmly to the legend that High King Pwyll II, who
was slain at Ayrifal, would return to save them.
An aside: Prior to the invasion, the power of the High King
of Aluvia waxed and waned with the charisma or martial prowess of the individual - thus
Dragen of Steyles' famous epigram, "The position of High King entitles one to thump
the table and plead for order." The modern-day respect given to the position of the
High King by the general populace stems from this period of trial, in which the oppressed
masses clung to the vision of Aluvian strength as symbolized by Pwyll II.
Fearing that some legitimate descendant of Pwyll II might be
hidden among what she saw as the squabbling and wretched Orts, Alfrega enlarged her
household army to an unprecedented size. Mercenaries flocked to Aluvia from as far as the
peaks of distant Silvera, and became the scourge of the peasantry. Alfrega was unceasing
in her attempts to hunt down the last of the Ort loyalists, using the most brutal of
tactics. Families were tortured to draw out their rebellious loved ones, homes were burnt,
land was salted, and dozens were executed in hideous fashion.
In truth, no descendant of Pwyll II lived. The sons and male
cousins of the High King had been slain in battle at his side. The rest of his bloodline
were rounded up and executed by Alfric immediately after his victory. A man of great
practicality and few scruples, Alfric refused to mercifully exile or imprison them, to
avoid the very thing Alfrega feared - a descendant who could unite the Aluvians and
challenge his own offspring for the throne. This was done quietly, however, and neither
Theolaud nor Alfrega knew the extreme measures taken by their dead patriarch.
As the measures taken by Alfrega grew more and more barbaric,
the Orts adopted a new tactic. To this day, the beginning cannot be pinpointed. Muttering
in kitchens became muttering in taverns. The angry found each other, and made resolutions
to themselves and with each other. It was in the royal city of Celdon that open defiance
began.
Celdon lies nestled in the Belshain Valley, straddling the
banks of the great Canfeld River. Tall houses, of stout timber and fired brick, line
narrow stoned roads worn smooth by uncounted feet and beasts of burden. The Canfeld is
birthed in the ancient granite of the Luparvium Mountains, which divides the bright fields
and verdant woods of Aluvia from the gloomy moors of Milantos. It languidly flows, deep
and slow, to the Ironsea. Landings for merchant craft from the Ironsea line the banks in
Celdon, and the riverside areas are known for their color, noise, and exotic wares.
Children dangle their feet over the edges of nine white stone
bridges which connect the two halves of the city, and drop apples and small animals onto
the boats passing beneath them. Occasionally, they drop each other into the brown water.
Alfric established a castle, known simply as the Tower of
Alfric - or, more recently, the Tower - upon an island in the center of the city. The
traditional highland fortress of the Aluvian Kings, Thrushhaven, was deemed too old and
remote for Alfric's purposes. Thus was the bustling marketplace on the island razed, and
construction begun on a magnificent, airy white marble palace in the Viamontian style.
At the time of Alfrega, it had been under construction for
some 50 years, and was still expanding. Alfrega, of course, devoted as much effort to
expand her palace's dungeons as she did to fill them.
It was at a public execution on the Tower Island that the
public resistance of the Orts began. On a fine Leafcull morning in 860, the execution of a
farmer and his three children had been scheduled. The farmer, Dunol by name, had been
accused of giving shelter to an Ort pursued by Alfrega's troops.
Popular tales, however, insist that the real crime of Dunol
was defending his fair daughter, whom the Souia-Vey mercenary patrol appreciated too much.
Regardless, when the guards clanked down to the dungeon that morning, only the man himself
could be found.
When questioned, he is said to have cackled and replied that
his children - including the offended daughter - had been spirited away by a shadow. The
courtyard throng, told to expect four examples of what awaited those who gave succor to
the Orts, murmured when they were given but one. Dunol was broken on the rack and
disemboweled. The queen watched the spectacle, as was customary, from her private balcony.
From here we can rely on eyewitness accounts.
As Dunol breathed his last, a cry ascended from the balcony.
Queen Alfrega, a slim, flame-haired figure dressed in winterblue silks from the Garondish
lands, stood grappling with an assailant. This fight was brief, as her guards leaped to
her defense. A dark blur sprang from the balcony and alighted on the execution platform,
where the remains of Dunol lay strewn about.
Here, the blur solidified, and assumed the form of a young
man in dun colored robes. He threw back his hood and cried, "The time has come for
the Mad Queen to be thrown down!" He declared himself as Harlune, of Feirgard,
slipped a small rose-colored ring from Dunol's finger, and disappeared into the crowds
before the guards could reach him.
It was later revealed that Harlune, a young Life Mage of
considerable ability and versatility, had spent the whole night smuggling the children out
of the dungeons, one by one, under a magical cloak of shadows. Alas, he grew weary and was
forced to rest to replenish his mana, and hence lost precious minutes toward the end.
This, it is certain, spelled the farmer's doom.
From that day forward Harlune, now inevitably known as the
Shadowed, became a figure of legendary stature. He is said to have traveled through the
taverns, approaching those who muttered quietly against the Throne. With him was an elder
warrior, Hendac Tharesun, the firstborn of Pwyll II's seneschal.
Hendac had been the effective leader of the Orts for some
years. As the brutality of Alfrega increased, he had traveled from one group to another,
urging them to flee to the distant Luparvium Mountains. Many did, huddling together in
miserable camps among the jagged, chilly peaks. Those that remained ended up in Alfrega's
dungeons, or dead, or hunted to exhaustion by her mercenaries. In Harlune's defiant act,
Tharesun had seen the making of a powerful ally. Seeing a short future for such an
impetuous youth, Tharesun quickly sought him out and became his mentor; whether Harlune
really wanted this arrangement is unclear.
Tharesun and Harlune sought out the hidden camps of Orts
throughout the year of 861. In the month of Harvestgrain, they arrived at one of the Ort
camps in the Luparvium. As they rode up, a chieftain and a minor clansman were about to
come to blows over a bit of meat, which the chieftain claimed had been stolen from his
stores. The grizzled Hendac, who still retained the noble bearing of the High King's
court, stepped between the two men and silenced them with a glare.
He dropped a stone on the ground between them. They watched
in befuddled silence as Hendac gathered rocks. Slowly, he began to build a wall between
the two men.
"What are you doing?" asked Kalladran, Chieftan of
the Wynthirnh.
"I am building a mighty fortress," Hendac replied.
Kalladran scoffed at this. "One man making a pile of
rocks is hardly a castle in the making."
"Then," Hendac said, "help me, for certainly
two men making a pile of rocks is more nearly a castle in the making."
So, legendarily, began the construction of the Castle of
Holdfast, which was not the mightiest of fortresses, nor by any means the most elegant,
and which never held off any attackers - for Alfrega's loyalists never found it.
Holdfast came to be a safe haven for the Orts and their
sympathizers in the coming years. From the walls of the Holdfast, many a party rode down
to the plains to waylay Alfrega's patrols, or to rescue her victims.
It was in the latter capacity that young Harlune proved most
valuable. Under the stern guidance of Tharesun, he organized sympathetic Aluvian elements
throughout the land into safe-houses and guides, who would safely escort accused spies out
of Alfrega's grasp.
Accompanying the various groups proved too taxing, so Harlune
sought to create a magical aid that could provide his shadow-screens wherever and whenever
needed. He and Hendac agreed upon an enchanting ring, an object small and common enough to
escape general detection. Having little experience with enchantment, Harlune sought the
aid of the great mage Urbex the Venerable. Urbex, though of temperamental and cross
nature, had little love for the Viamontians.
For a week, the two mages toiled over a simple ring of rose
quartz, imbuing it with spells deemed of use for the Aluvian resistance members. The
bearer of the ring could heal himself and his companions. He could run all night with
urgent messages. He could see on a moonless night, and could wrap himself in a cloak of
shadows. Should all these measures fail, the mages endowed the ring with the ability to
negate the pain of fire, which Alfrega preferred to use in her interrogations.
Harlune named this ring the Rose of Celdon, after a tale
which circulated just before the Viamont invasion. A mute farm girl, Jehanna Domremad,
came into fame as a hedgerow prophet while the dust-light of the Comet of 804 glowered
over the land - the harbinger of the Grand Armada of Viamont. Jehanna, when questioned on
the comet and the safety of the town of Celdon, wrote; "Celdon is and will forever be
the Rose of the Valley.
He who holds it gently will marvel at its beauty. He who
tries to clench his fist about it will know only its thorns." Many of Jehanna's
predictions have proven true as the years have past - but that is a matter for another
historian, and another history.
The Rose was passed from agent to agent in great secrecy, and
did much good. Regrettably, the marvelous artifact was lost before Alfrega's fall.
Although children's fables tell us that evil is always
reflected in some physical imperfection, evil in the real world can be cloaked in a vision
of perfect loveliness. Such was the case with Theolaud's daughter.
Alfrega was a pale, high-cheeked, wintry beauty, with an
abundant tresses of orange-red hair and blue-white eyes like a storm-whipped sea. Some
whispered that she bore Silveran blood. True or not, she possessed the wild brilliance of
a fire in snow.
A young stable boy at the Tower of Alfric, Colrim by name,
lost his heart to the queen. Or rather, half his heart; while a certain part of him
secretly craved her favor, the rest despised the cruelties she inflicted upon his people.
He believed her mercenaries acted without her consent or true knowledge. Colrim, as a
member of the palace staff, had been quickly recruited by the resistance in Celdon.
What happened next I have pieced together from my studies of
Alfrega's own journal, which has heretofore been locked away at the behest of the crown.
One night, Colrim was sent to infiltrate the Tower dungeons
with the aid of the Rose, to free a poor blacksmith. As Colrim crept through the halls, he
caught a glimpse of the queen and her handmaidens. The nature of man being what it is, he
availed himself of the opportunity presented. He followed the retinue to her chambers, and
observed the queen in her nightly rituals.
When Alfrega was left alone for the night, Colrim took the
Rose from his finger, and, now visible, fell prostrate before her, begging for her favor.
Ever shrewd, the queen agreed to grant him her love - in exchange for names. Colrim,
awakened to some semblence of shame by her demand, slipped the Rose on to his finger and
fled. The queen must have smiled, knowing she had, with but a few words, slid a deadly
hook into the mouth of the resistance.
It is not known what debate Colrim held with himself in the
following weeks. It was observed that the Queen went riding unusually often at that time,
and commissioned an elaborate new dress to wear in the saddle, with amounts of muslin and
Viamont lace considered inappropriate for a lady of her station. No one knows which night
it was that Colrim presented himself to the queen again.
But in the foredawn of 23rd Wintersebb, 868, as a layer of
ice crawled across the Canfeld and the brittle stars shone down, mercenary soldiers of the
Queen descended upon the safe havens of the Orts in all quarters of Celdon. Four score and
three were seized and herded into the courtyard of the Tower.
Alfrega stood on a balcony overhead, wrapped in silver furs,
her hair spilling over her shoulders in uncharacteristic disarray, shining blood-red in
the guttering torchlight. Beside her stood Colrim, who shriveled from the gaze of his
former friends. Here Alfrega pronounced words which became burned in the memory of all
Aluvians.
"You who stand here before me are here by your own free
will. All of you chose to plot against your rightful ruler, by granting aid and succor to
the rebels who call themselves the Orts. The action of one loyal man has brought an end to
your villainy. This land will be free of traitors, if I have to destroy three generations
to do so. You are mine, your children are mine, and this land is mine, by right of my
grandfather's conquest.
I will not have any of it taken from me by thieves and
peasants." With a languid wave of her arm, she proclaimed, "Death," and
turned her back and walked away as the troops waded into the shivering captives with mace
and sword. Colrim tried to leap for the balcony railing, but Alfrega's guards compelled
him to follow her.
Later that day, his body was found in a pile of offal beneath
the Tower guardhouse, his throat slashed by a dagger of exquisite craftsmanship.
It is the opinion of this author that the queen never granted
Colrim that which he coveted. It is far more likely that her unkempt appearance was purely
for show, to rub salt in the wound of the resistance's betrayal.
It was during the events of this black night that the Rose of
Celdon was lost. Colrim, it is known, did not have it then. It had been in the town when
Alfrega's troops fanned out across the snowy streets and squares. Although many searched
the bodies of the slaughter victims for it, it was not found. Neither was it discovered
among the embers of the safehouses themselves, which were looted and burned by the
soldiers. It is thought that one of the resistance members threw it into the Canfeld
before his or her capture.
Never captured, yet never recovered, the Rose remains a
potent Aluvian symbol of defiance against tyranny.
Less than a month after Colrim's betrayal, the Queen died in
bed in the same way she lived - spitting up bile - at the young age of five and thirty
years. She was succeeded by her son, Osric, who would come to be known as the Wise.
Some believe that Alfrega was poisoned by Viamont, and others
that the resistance finally found their way into her kitchens, and slew her in vengeance
for the murder of the Celdon resistance members. The truth, as is usually the case, was
more prosaic. Alfrega had ordered her chefs to provide her with the flesh of the Tian
fish, known as a delicacy of the Sho.
The Sho, apparently, had never told her chefs that the Tian
fish must be packed in salt for three days to draw out its poisons.